III. - Sarah's Challenge
When the doorbell rang, it didn't bother Sarah too much. It happened occasionally and she just ignored it. She certainly didn't want to let anybody in, even if it was one of her few more trusted friends. The risk of them finding out about her secret was just too big and on second or third glance, she couldn't explain the wetness on her body satisfyingly, for it was neither water nor lotion, but a sheen of slick tentacle-slime coating her from head to toe.
When somebody knocked at her apartment door, she jerked upright on her incredibly comfortably lover, though. How had anybody gotten into the house and to her door already? Who could this be?
"Miss Johnson?" the voice of her landlord answered that question. "Are you home?"
Oh, this was bad! Very, very bad! She hadn't paid the rent for almost six weeks now, because there just was nothing to do so. Her bank account was probably already blocked and she didn't have more than about five dollars in her purse. Not nearly enough, even if she had known where to find that thing.
It was quite possible that the landlord would decide to come in, for she hadn't been seen or heard of for quite a while. He sounded worried rather than angry, so she couldn't bank on him leaving just like that again. She
had
to answer the door. Even if that meant also answering his questions when she wanted to pay the rent.
With her lover's help, she got to her feet and bolted for the door, only grabbing her silken bathrobe and throwing it over on the way. His suggestion to solve the problem his way and the mental image of his tentacles choking the landlord weren't the least feasible, so she dismissed them. Curiously, she wasn't exactly shocked by his suggestion. It just wouldn't work and ... well ... Mister Miller didn't really deserve a fate like that.
In front of the door, she straightened her hair, finding it slick and totally mucus-ridden. Well, at least she could just sweep it back and probably pull off a convincing wet-look. She had to wipe the worst coating from her face, though. Not even anywhere close to decent in the end, she opened the door.
The middle-aged landlord had just raised his hand to knock again and was holding his phone. On first glance, his expression was deeply worried. It lightened up considerably when he saw her. Obviously, he had really been wondering about her being well. Aww ...
Now, it took less than a second for him to realize her state and look her up thoroughly. Another half-second later, his expression had changed to one of utter surprise. Right next, he was barely able to hide his leer. Sarah suddenly realized how the silk would interact with the slickness on her skin and that she might as well have opened the door naked, but she couldn't help it anymore. She only blushed pretty lightly, though. God, what a slut she had become ...!
"Miss Johnson," he said, half happy, half relieved.
"Haven't I already asked you to call me Sarah, Mister Miller?" she wondered.
Inwardly, she also wondered. When had she become so brazen? She was standing there with her considerable bust pushed out proudly and one leg bent to the side a bit, resting only on her toes. It was ... certainly a suggestive pose and her completely see-through non-coverage made it extremely slutty. What was she doing?
"Well, uhm ... Sarah," he replied, staring at her breasts. "You'll have to call me William, then."
"With pleasure,
Dick
..."
She couldn't go on, because she had to mentally chide her lover. Most of this was clearly his doing. She'd never been a girl who'd use cock related pet names for her landlord and make them sound like an invitation to pull the namesake out of his pants. To her mild surprise, her alien lover didn't even try to deny it. He just pointed out that she didn't have much to solve any problems, except her incredibly sexy looks and her certainly fuckable body.
Ugh! He couldn't be serious, could he? He didn't actually suggest to ...?
"I was a bit worried about you, Sarah," William interrupted her thoughts. "Nobody seems to have seen you in a while and ... well ... I haven't received any rent for some time."
"Really?" she gasped, putting all her effort into a genuinely surprised expression.
"I'm afraid, no," he answered, sounding less concerned than before.
"Why don't we talk about it inside?" she suggested.
Inwardly, she still recoiled a bit. Her body stepped aside and made an inviting gesture, leaving only a narrow gap for the man to slip through. He'd certainly touch her, if he did. Her mind wasn't as much bent on seduction, though. She still didn't like the idea and actually doubted that it would really solve the problem.
William swallowed visibly and hesitated for a second, but he obliged. His attempt to minimize physical contact by turning sideways was thwarted by her leaning in, right when they were closest. He face came as close as an inch to his and her boobs certainly brushed over his chest. It didn't go unnoticed, of course.
He escaped the closeness and slipped inside, but it didn't really feel like he was dodging her attention. Maybe, he was more keen on getting out of sight of any accidental witness; maybe, he was automatically trying to be polite. Either way, he didn't bring much distance between their bodies, once he was in and could close the door.
"I don't want to waste your time," he said, nervously licking his lips and trying to figure out which part of her body to look at. "From the looks of it, you're a bit busy."
"Oh, that's just lotion," she breathed. "I like to use much of it after showering. Consider it a quirk." She lowered her head and looked at him through her eyelashes from below, acting coy. "I like the slickness, y'know?"